Grow House

Once upon a time,

not long ago

I had an eight foot bong

with the strongest stroke

You know, it was known for

knocking motherfuckers out

One hit, that's it, then you're

sleepin' on the f***in' couch

But maybe you're tripping

out rather quietly

Off in the corner

having anxiety

Hopin' for some privacy

Lips touch glass smoke

fills lungs brain cells lit

Now you elevate, top

floor, homie, what

(coughing)

Man, this is bomb

Once upon a time

in the projects, yo

- Me and the homies had to grow

- Uh huh

24 lights, air

tight, was lit right

Turn around, pounce,

one vode is clip night

Backwoods bought, like

I'm payin' an invoice

The contact have you

higher than Lloyd's voice

Abracadabra, lit

loud in a Rolls Royce

So sit your ass down, stop

talkin' and roll joints

- Aw, my bad

- Hey, what the f*** you doing, dawg

You just broke the bong

You already f*** all this...

You know what,

pass me them papers

I'll roll us up

a fat one, man

- And we'll get it lit

- I bet

Once upon a time,

not long ago

I had a household bong

that my mom would toke

Joint rip, got the

funky feel tint

Xzibit just shot me

a hit, made me quit

Wacks got them

poppin' out dimensions

Oh, slam, took a dab,

started astral projectin'

Backwood gettin' princed in

Live risin', you

still session resin'

Man that sh*t depressin'

Hey, here's a lesson

Yo

This a procession

Now back to the

lecture at hand

I'm about to pack this

gram in a fol' and go ham

Hit it somethin' hard

high feeling close to God

The bong hits like a

Tyson blow to the bod

Oh boy.

This is the bullshit.

(hip hop music playing)

The things I do...

Well look. It's the littlest Pep Boy.

Look at your ass over there labor trickin'.

What the hell you doin' with that hammer?

Don't nobody put hammers on engines.

Old girl must be amazin' have you under

that hood labor trickin' like that.

Labor trick!

Man, don't hate on me.

I'm a professional, now.

I ain't doin' this for no

b*tch. You got me f***ed up.

I'm lookin' at you doin' it for a b*tch.

You right.

Hey open the door, man!

- Open the door!

- Hey, question! Question!

- What?

- Can you fix something under my hood?

Hey shut up, man.

What up, man?

Nah, she is a freak though.

I just wish I would have known

before I had to do all this work, man.

That sh*t hard, bro.

What was you gonna do?

Increase the amount of

coochie you get in the deal?

Goddamn right!

Sh*t it's only right

to get a coochie raise.

Fair exchange. No arguing, bro.

Sh*t, she should be airing me out

while I'm cuttin' her grass,

while I'm doin' everything.

She should be what?

Airing me out!

What the hell is "airing..."

Airing me out mean when you keep

hittin' the keypad all you hear...

(hissing)

- Ratchet!

- See I know you ain't talkin'.

Ratchet!

We out here dry, bro.

She the one got me this weed.

Let me see the weed.

Nah, bro.

I ain't trying to make

you lower your standards

just to smoke with me.

Why would I do that to you?

Come on. Let me get that sh*t.

Hey you stop f***ing playing with me.

Here, here, here.

Don't drop the last little bit of weed.

I don't know about you but

this sh*t getting me high.

I think I'm high too.

What the f*** is that?

DARIUS:
What?

They look like... remember that

rap group, The Ghetto Boys?

- Wow, man.

- Look like they in the middle of the street, and sh*t.

My mind playin' tricks on me, nigga.

Ah sh*t. Hey man, let's ride.

- Hey.

- What? Who are they?

DARIUS:
You know that one

nigga that's always in the hood,

act like you owe him, some

kind of chip on his shoulder?

- That's him.

- You owe him something or some sh*t?

Nah it just ain't worth it. Let's

just ride around the corner, man.

- PAT:
Alright let's deal...

- Let's go! Let's go!

Step on it dawg!

The f*** you think you goin'?

- God damn!

- It's jammed.

- Hey I gotta fix my door.

- It's this new car.

I kicked off!

I tried, man! I tried to hold you!

Wait.

This how I gotta catch up with you, nigga?

What you talking 'bout?

I just saw you pulling up,

I was fixin' to say what's

up. What you... what's up, boy?

Come on, man. I been...

...calling you and paging you and sh*t.

Hold up, man. Nah, that

ain't what happened, man.

I tried to...

I ain't see you text me. My phone been

messing up for a minute. It's... oh...

Texts just came in.

Rollin 'Reg...

I call him a lot too and his phone...

every time he like...

- It happens.

- ...he dropped it.

He tried to call me a lot of times.

- Call me now.

- I dropped my phone.

Shut the f*** up, hoe.

Reg, Pat. Pat, this Reg.

Oh, nice to meet you. Now

touch your ankles, nigga.

- Grab your ankles?

- What?

Who the f*** is this nigga? My liaison?

I hear y'all selling more

weed than a dispensary.

Y'all got a whole shitload of money.

Sellin' more weed than a dispensary?

They've taken all my customers.

- I can't sell a seed 'round this b*tch.

- Nothing.

But you tried to, nigga. Pay up.

Bro, I can't keep giving you money.

I mean I feel bad for what

happened to you, but...

- ...that ain't my fault...

- You owe!

I owe you what?

Look at me, Spoke!

Look at me!

Huh?

I don't see what's the problem, bro.

Have you ever played soccer?

Do you know what it's like

to only get lap dances?

What's wrong with that?

And act like you feel it?

You owe. You owe, Spoke.

Man, damn!

Nigga, stop having less money.

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